


In the Aftermath of a Broken Leg

by Lenasaurous



Series: In the Dead [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Established Relationship, I promise, I'm sorry that my au has to have spoilers in it, Multi, Phantom Theif AU, Sequel, They're nealry non-existent, but they're light, ok, still only sort of, there are spoilers now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-08-29 14:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16745569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenasaurous/pseuds/Lenasaurous
Summary: “As much as I don’t want to ruin this… who am I kidding, the best moment of life, the whole criminal-detective thing is still a problem.”“I don’t care what you say, I’m never letting you go."---Shuichi had meant it when he said those words. As wrapped up in his emotion as he was, they had been nothing but honest. But when he said it, he'd had no idea what sort of tests that vow would be put to.Whatever though, at least this time he might come out of it in one piece.Sequel to 'In the Dead of a Hot Summer's Night'





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look who's back at it with the awful summaries!  
> Btw, if you haven't read the In the Dead then this fic isn't going to make all that much sense. I don't like it as much as I once did, but it's ok. Maybe you should give it a shot! (I'll probably edit it at some point too, just to make it read better)

A church bell was tolling the final of eleven rings as Kaito and Shuichi walked out of the cinema. They were in high, although tired, spirits.

It was dark and humid, the stars blocked from view by streetlamps and billboards polluting the dark blanket of space above them. Still, according to the city, the night was still young. Noise came from all directions: humming engines, shrieking horns and the slurred yells from students in the midst of a night of questionable activities. But while the city was still raring to go, Shuichi felt about ready for bed.

He hobbled along the pavements, still uncomfortable on his crutches. He’d only had them for a week, and he was getting used to them, but he still detested them. He was getting adept with them though. He could at least keep pace with Kaito as he ambled along, recounting highlights of the movie they’d just sat through.

“I can’t _believe_ Harumaki didn’t wanna go,” he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “I know she only likes thrillers and crap, but that shit was awesome!”

Shuichi chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“Really though, thanks for coming man,” Kaito said, nudging Shuichi’s shoulder with his fist. “I know it’s kinda difficult for you at the moment.”

“No, no! I had fun,” Shuichi assured him. “It’s not like I was busy. And I have to get out on thing or I'll never get used to it. Besides, the film was worth watching.” He paused and looked down to the concrete tiles passing under his feet. “And it’s my fault we haven’t gone out recently. I’m glad we could.”

Kaito shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Don’t say that crap. You were in a bad place. At least you’re all good now, right?”

“Better than good,” Shuichi agreed with a dopey smile. “It’s a strange experience… I never thought I’d get to where I am.”

“Must be nice…” Kaito mumbled, crestfallen and bitter.

It had been a while since Shuichi had seen Kaito like this, a long while, at least a year or two. He hadn’t noticed the onset because of his funk, but now that he back to normal it had been hard not to. He’d hoped getting out with Kaito may have distracted him, but it hadn’t lasted all that long. “She’s just busy.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, kicking a discarded paper cup out of his way. “But it would be nice if she weren’t, y’know?”

Shuichi didn’t have anything to say to that, so he hummed in agreement, letting silence fall between. It left him agitated though and with an ugly sense of powerlessness. He owed Kaito so much at this point, but he didn’t know where to start with the consolations. Kaito had been a natural at it, but you never planned to be emotionally supportive with Kaito, it simply happened when he needed it. He needed it right now though, and Shuichi didn’t know where to start.

Kaito looked up at the obscured stars and his frown set further. His eyebrows drew close together and his forehead screwed up into sharp wrinkles. “We need to go camping.”

An involuntary bark of laughed escaped Shuichi’s mouth. “Do we now?” he asked, humouring him.

“Yes,” Kaito affirmed, the corners of his mouth twitching up. “We need to go somewhere… rural.” He nodded to himself. “Yeah, a forest or something. Like up Mount Atagi! That place is nice, I went there with grandpa once.”

“Okay… but why?”

“Because,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest, gaze still directed skyward. “I want to go see the stars with you guys. You can’t see them in Kenkita, or cities in general. It would be fun. Me an’ Maki an’ you… I suppose you could bring Ouma, if you had to.” Kaito looked down and met Shuichi’s eyes. “What do you think?”

Shuichi nodded. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds nice.”

The two of them turned a corner onto a smaller, what they had expected to be less populated, street. Instead, they were met with flashing lights and a crowd of police gathered around a building a few yards off.

“The hell’s going on,” Kaito wondered aloud.

Shuichi furrowed his brow. Bystanders were forming a large circle around the scene, flashing phone cameras and trying to get a better look. In amongst the sea of faces though, doing his best to keep the crowd back, Shuichi saw his boss. “I’m going to find out,” he announced and began to cut forcefully through the crowd.

“Hey, hey, civilians need to keep back,” Kaminara greeted once Shuichi approached.

“Boss, what’s going on?” Shuichi asked, dismissive of the order.

“Saihara-san?” Registering who he was speaking to, Kaminara directed his attention to Shuichi. “What are you doing here?”

Ignoring him again, Shuichi looked up to the surrounded building, realising it was a bank. “Is it a heist?”

Kaminara grimaced and nodded. He stopped to listen to a voice coming over a small radio attached to his thick coat before turning back to Shuichi. “Yeah, but that’s none of your concern. You shouldn’t be here, it’s dangerous.”

“But…”

“Trust me. There’ll be plenty for you to get involved with tomorrow morning.” He paused, standing up straight and looking over his shoulder at the bank. “We’re pretty certain it’s related to Dice.”

Shuichi’s eyes blew wide and scared, panicked gaze locking onto the armed officers stood around the bank’s entrance. _“W-what!?”_ he stuttered, voice jumping an octave.

It looked like Kaminara regretted having said anything. He cursed and planted his hands on Shuichi’s shoulders. “You don’t need to worry about any of this until _tomorrow_. Do you understand?”

In his state of terrified disbelief though, Shuichi couldn’t move a muscle. It was as if his hands had been superglued to his crutches, which had in turn grown roots that sunk miles beneath the concrete.

He stared blankly into Kaminara’s face.

“Kid, I told you, it’s dangerous. You need to go. We _both_ need to go.”

Then, like the blessing that he was, Kaito chose that moment to involve himself. “Sorry sir, I’ll get him home right away.” Met by no resistance, Kaito heaved Shuichi over his shoulder and evacuated them both.

Kaito didn’t put him down until they were at least two streets over. “Dude, are you alright?” he asked, waving his hand in front of Shuichi’s face. “You look like you’ve seen a g… a ghost or… something.”

Mind finally snapping back into the present, Shuichi shook his head and groped at his pockets. Kaito watched on, bewildered, as Shuichi wrenched his phone out and hurriedly dialled. The first call went through to voicemail. As did the second. And the third. On the fourth though, the other line picked up. As Kokichi’s groggy voice met his ears, Shuichi’s world stopped imploding.

_“Shuichi?”_

“A-are you alright?!” he rushed out, barely in control of his own tongue.

 _“What? Yeah… of course I am. Why…”_ he paused to yawn, _“why wouldn’t I be? What happened?”_

Shuichi almost laughed. “I thought… nothing, it’s okay. As long as you’re alright… Sorry for waking you up.”

_“Wha…? No, what’s going on?”_

“It’s nothing, honest. Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you in the morning, okay?”

Kokichi grumbled and Shuichi could hear the crinkling of bed sheets as he shifted. _“I guess. Are you sure you don’t…?”_

“Yes,” Shuichi interrupted. “Please, go back to sleep. I love you.”

 _“Mnn, love you too.”_ And with that, he hung up, sounding close to passing out as he slurred the last few words.

“Dude, what the hell?” Kaito demanded. “Did you call _Ouma_?”

Shuichi nodded and dropped his phone back into his pocket, feeling far better. “Just…” he sighed, “just a lapse in reason, I suppose.” He paused and readjusted his grip on the crutches. “Y’know, I’m feeling pretty tired.” He looked up at his friend. “Let’s go home.”

Kaito nodded, following as Shuichi hobbled off in the direction of his apartment building.

“Are you going to explain or…?”

“Err, no.” Shuichi chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Kaito shrugged. “Whatever. You’ve kept worse from me.”

He walked Shuichi home before continuing to his own apartment around the corner. They exchanged farewells, Kaito content to keep his questions to himself. Shuichi, exhausted from the rush of relief, passed out the second his head hit the pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you mean they didn’t take anything?!” Shuichi yelped, voice ricocheting throughout the office and drawing droves of unwanted attention. Shuichi was far too bewildered to register it though.

Kaminara, on the other hand, wasn’t.

He grimaced before dragging Shuichi across the room and into his office. “I mean they didn’t take anything,” he repeated.  He let the door click shut before leaning against it and crossing his arms. “The only thing missing was the large section of wall they blew a hole through.”

Shuichi stared at the floor in disbelief. “Wait,” he said, shaking his head, “so, what was the point? Property damage? Scaring us? Wasting our time?”

“No, no, there was obviously a point,” Kaminara corrected him. Noticing the curious eyes of his officers beyond the window, he snapped the blinds shut before pushing off of the door. “One of the private vaults had been opened.” He moved to drop into the chair behind his desk, limbs limp and tired. “Only the one.”

“They were looking for something,” Shuichi stated. “I assume they didn’t find it?”

Kaminara nodded. “No clue what it was though. There was still stuff in the vault when we got to it and from what the bank told us there’s nothing missing. No documents or photographs or anything sensitive,” he explained, grabbing a manilla folder and flicking through the contents.

Shuichi sat down across from his boss, letting his crutches clunk to the floor. “Then what _was_ in there?”

“An entire wardrobe of ancient, and _priceless_ , Kimonos.” Shuichi had never seen Kaminara look so defeated.

“You’re kidding me.” This whole thing was making less and less sense the more he learned about it. He slumped against the back of the chair. “But that’s… that’s just _stupid_.” He couldn’t think of any reason _not_ to take them. It was obvious they were looking for something with such a high profile, dangerous heist. How could someone pull that off and then make such an obvious mistake?

Kaminara shrugged. “Well, that’s the way things are. At this point we take it or leave it. And considering how little we have to go on, I’ll probably go with the former.” He put the file back together and pushed it across the desk for Shuichi to take. “We have the owner of the vault coming in…” he glanced down at his watch, “any moment now, actually. I just hope it’ll lead _somewhere_ , it’s our last lead. If it turns up dry the whole affair is just dead for the time being.”

As Shuichi nodded in understanding, Kaminara’s desk phone rang. He excused himself and picked it up, motioning for Shuichi to remain seated.

“Send him straight to Fukui-san… he isn’t? But it’s Thurs…” He paused, furiously mouthing curse words. “Have him escorted to my office then, I’ll handle it. Yes… yes, thank you.”

“Work beckons?”

Re-placing the receiver, Kaminara nodded. “Yes, yes. I’d invite you to help, my boy, but I’m sure you have other work to do.”

Shuichi cocked his head. “Why?”

“Ah, well the kid’s your age. I thought you might have more luck than I would, but I’ll just have Kozue help me.”

Shuichi nodded and bent over to pick up his crutches again. “Do I leave the file?”

“Oh no, take it, please. We always appreciate your opinion on these things. Need a hand with that?”

“No that’s alright, thank you.”

Moments later there was a knock at the office door and Kaminara stood to answer, leaving Shuichi to get to his feet.

Before Shuichi knew it though, he was almost knocked off of them again.

He looked down to the small person who had just barrelled into him, stuttering in incredulity. “K-Kokichi?!”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!” he replied, cheeky smile splitting his face. “I’d given up hope on getting to see you here! False alarm, I guess.”

“But what are you-”

“Excuse me, Saihara-san?” Kaminara interrupted before Shuichi could finish. He snapped to attention, eager for any kind of answers. “You two know each other?” Well that was a fat lot of good.

“Well, yes…” Shuichi said, not sure why he wasn’t meant to. “But…” He was struggling to find words. So many questions were trying to squeeze out that, much like cereal trying to pour though a small spout, he couldn’t get any of them out.

Kokichi beat him to it though. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he whined. “Am I not good enough to brag about? Am I not important enough to you? You said you loved me, was that just a _lie?!_ ”

Knowing where this was going and determined not to let it get there, Shuichi jammed his hand over Kokichi’s mouth. “Not in front of my Boss.”

Kokichi’s eyes flickered between him and Kaminara before he rolled them and pushed Shuichi off of him. “Whatever. Apparently, I’ve been robbed? Or not? It wasn’t clear.”

Shuichi felt like an idiot.

Turning back to Kaminara, Shuichi found the correct words to explain what was going on. “Sir, it would seem that the owner of the vault is, um…” He gulped. “My significant other.”

Kaminara didn’t seem to know how to react to that.

“Actually, sir? You know, I think that other work can wait for a bit, if you know what I mean.”

Glancing down at Kokichi, who had now latched onto Shuichi’s arm and was trying to pry the crutch from his hand, Kaminara nodded.

Not ten minutes later, Shuichi found himself sat opposite Kokichi in a brightly lit interviewing booth, fiddling with a microphone.

“I thought you wouldn’t be allowed to interview someone you were involved with,” Kokichi said, watching as Shuichi set up the obsolete equipment the precinct had refused to update since 2002.

Shuichi would have laughed if the two wires he was trying to untangle weren’t irritating him. “It took Kaminara-san about two seconds to assess just how difficult you are to deal with.” He glanced up at Kokichi. “And to my knowledge, I’m the only person in the building capable of worming a true sentence out of you.”

“I can’t say you’re wrong,” Kokichi agreed, smile unabashedly smug.

“You ready in there, Saihara-san?” Kaminara’s voice rang over the speakers from the adjacent observation room.

“Almost.”

He harrumphed in triumph as he got the two wires apart, plugging them in. He shot a thumbs up at the two-way glass before repositioning the microphone so both of them could speak into it. But then he caught sight of Kokichi. “What?”

Expression now dopey, he looked up at Shuichi with a lovestruck smile. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Shuichi’s face blossomed red and turned back to the equipment.

Once he was confident that he was ready, Shuichi turned to Kokichi. “Before we start,” he said. “ _Please be honest just this once_.”

“I promise to try.” When Shuichi continued to stare at him though, he huffed. “ _Fine_ , the whole truth and nothing but the truth,” he swore, holding his hand up in a sarcastic oath.

“Thank you.”

Shuichi hit the record button and read the documentation spiel. Then he began.

“As a preliminary question, can you tell me what, to your knowledge, was in the vault.”

“Nope.”

Shuichi could already feel the migraine building.

“I’m not messing with you,” Kokichi reassured him at Shuichi’s tired sigh. “I just don’t know.”

“Isn’t it your vault?”

“Ah, not quite. It was my parents’, but now that they’re dead it belongs to me. I don’t think it’s been opened since I was like, seven or something. My Grandmother opened a bunch around that time.”

Shuichi was shocked. If Kokichi was being honest with him, he’d never seen him be quite so blunt about anything. He certainly hadn’t heard him speak so frankly about his parents before.

“Well, um… is there any way we could ask your Grandmother about this then?”

“She’s dead.”

“Anyone else?”

Kokichi shook his head again. “No.”

Shuichi could do little but stare.

He’d known Kokichi’s parents had passed, but he’d had no idea just how… alone he was. He’d at least expected him to have _some_ kind of parental figure in his life.

Unable to say anything due to the recording, he had to settle for reaching across the desk and holding Kokichi’s hand.

“If that’s the case then I’ll inform you. There was a collection of old Kimonos suspected to be highly valuable.”

Shuichi realised then that this didn’t bode well for the rest of the interview. If Kokichi didn’t know what was in there, or at least refused to tell, and there was no one else they could speak to about it, that rendered more than half of their questions redundant.

“They weren’t taken, but do you know of anything else that maybe have been in there and anyone who may have wanted to take it?”

Kokichi didn’t answer right away, too busy staring at his and Shuichi’s interlaced fingers. “H-huh? Sorry, what?” After having the question repeated, Kokichi shook his head. “No, not really. My parents were just archaeologists. No enemies. Maybe some valuable stuff but I wouldn’t know what.”

That was a relief at least. Shuichi had been worrying the Kimonos were to do with Dice.

Dismissing his concerns, Shuichi ran over what remained of the questions Kaminara had given him before they started. With that though, the rest of them were now useless too.

“So, to reiterate, you have no idea why someone would want to break into this vault?”

“Not a clue.”

Shuichi sighed. “That’s all, thank you.” And he switched the recording equipment off. He slumped forward and turned to the glass again just as Kaminara switched the lights on. “Dead end?”

Kaminara nodded. “I’ll deal with the recording of you want to deal with Ouma-san’s documentation. You can escort him off the premises too if you want.”

“Thank very much, sir.” The mirror turned opaque again. “Shall we get you home then?”

Kokichi nodded, letting go of Shuichi hand to help retrieve his crutches. “Sorry if I was… blunt. And unhelpful.”

“No, no, blunt is good. And it wasn’t your fault this didn’t lead anywhere,” Shuichi assured him, accepting his outstretched hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. “But um… you’re okay, right?”

Kokichi nodded and rolled his eyes. “I never feel anything less than perfect when I’m with you.”

“If you’re sure.” Shuichi nodded and led Kokichi to the door. “Come on.”

However, they bumped into Kaminara again as they exited the room, and Shuichi took the opportunity to shoot him a question. “Sir, there’s something I don’t quite understand.”

“And what’s that my boy?”

“What you said last night about… Well it just seems unrelated after further investigation.”

Kaminara’s eyes lit up with understanding before he shook his head. “We thought it was, last night. It aligned with other information and such, but it seems we were wrong. I shouldn’t have said anything; I only got your hopes up. While it isn’t off the table _yet_ , you don’t need to worry about it for now.”

Shuichi nodded and thanked him before continuing off to fill out Kokichi’s paperwork. It wasn’t long then that he was walking Kokichi through the precinct’s lobby towards the door. Shuichi had stopped just inside the door to say goodbye, but a question had sprung from Kokichi’s lips before he got the chance.

“Look last night…” He worried his lip, voice laced with anxiety. “You sounded… _scared_. What happened?”

Shuichi was a little taken aback. He averted his eyes and scratched at his neck. “W-well…” He didn’t know what to say, and it didn’t help that they were in the middle of a police station.

Still, he tried. “Last night, when Kaito and I were walking home, we passed by the heist. And Kaminara-san was there so I asked him about it and he said…” Shuichi dropped his voice so low only Kokichi could hear. “He said it was Dice. S-so I thought that obviously, but… but you were fine and it was nothing and I didn’t _want_ to disturb you but I was panicking and… yeah.”

When he looked back up, Kokichi’s expression had melted into one of overwhelming affection. Their eyes met only for a split second before he leapt at Shuichi, arms latching iron-like around his neck.

Stumbling back to stop them from falling over, Shuichi blinked. After a moment though, he let one of his arms wrap around the smaller boy’s waist, pulling him close and burying his face into plum dyed hair. He indulged in the soft puffs of breath across his collarbone, the strands of hair tickling his cheek, the give of Kokichi’s body under his arm as he squeezed him tighter.

He hadn’t quite appreciated it up to that point, but even after knowing that Kokichi was alright, and after having spent the past hour with him, it hadn’t quite sunk in that he was indeed safe until that moment. Having the other so close and solid in his embrace elicited a sense of pure euphoria that buzzed from the tips of his ears to the soles of his feet.

“I barely got any sleep after you called,” Kokichi mumbled into Shuichi’s shoulder. That was a lie, Shuichi had heard Kokichi all but pass out over the phone, but he apologised nevertheless.

“I just needed to know you that were okay.”

The other fell silent again, pressing his face so hard into the crook of Shuichi’s neck that he could feel the fluttering of eyelashes against his skin.

He pulled back, but only enough so that their eyes could meet. He smiled shyly as Shuichi pushed their foreheads together. “Do you _have_ to go back to work?” he whined, fingers playing with the short strands of hair at the base of Shuichi’s neck.

“I’m afraid so,” Shuichi admitted, a silent snort of laughter escaping through his nostrils. “Although, I wish I didn’t.” He sighed and pressed his lips against Kokichi’s. It only lasted a second, but when he pulled back Kokichi’s face was glowing pink.

Then Kokichi pulled away completely, fingers touching Shuichi for as long as he could before his hands finally dropped to his side, the distance between them upsettingly substantial. “I…” he started, scuffing his feet on the floor tiles. “Can I… could I come over tonight?”

A fond chuckle tumbled from Shuichi’s lips. “Of course. You don’t have to ask.”

Kokichi nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you later then.” With a satisfied smile, his spirits a lot more chipper, Kokichi at last began to leave. “Bye, then!”

“See you later.” Shuichi waved as well as he could, refusing to turn around until the frame of the door had swallowed Kokichi’s retreating back.


	3. Chapter 3

The mid July evening was humid, and Shuichi’s t-shirt clung, wet, to his back. Despite the time, the sun was still hanging in the sky; blindingly orange light casting long, inhuman shadows across the busy streets. Locals and tourists alike were getting the most out of the night: restaurants were packed, large groups enjoying drinks under shady awnings, street music still ringing clear between the buildings from the park a quarter mile away.

Shuichi pushed his way through all of it, finding that bystanders were much happier to jump out of his way now that he was crutch-bound. His hands were slippery on the plastic handles, sweaty and hot but raw as the warm breeze grated over his knuckles. He really wished it hadn’t been too hot for gloves.

He turned another corner and sighed with relief at the rusty sign hanging a few yards ahead. He rushed forward, apologising to a man he bashed into in his haste, and slipped through the door of the takeout place, relishing in the sudden cool air pouring from over the doorway.

“God Shuichi, I was waiting for _hours_.” Kokichi waltzed up to him from a seat against the left wall. “This was your idea, you could have at least turned up on time.”

Shuichi looked up at the wall clock and shook his head. “I'm only two minutes late.”

“I know.” He pulled Shuichi over to the chairs and forced him into the one he’d been occupying, the other seats all taken. “We’ve still got another five minutes.”

Shuichi nodded, looking around the small waiting area. A number of people were milling about, waiting for the food to be ready. It wasn’t that busy, but a faint buzz of chatter hung in the air. “I might as well tell you now, then.”

He’d asked Kokichi to come over for one reason.

“Yeah?” Kokichi leant in to hear better, hands clutching the armrest.

Shuichi swallowed, feeling ashamed of himself for even considering doing this but also feeling that it was the most important thing he’d do all month. “We received another anonymous tip off today,” he whispered, so close that his lips brushed against Kokichi’s ear. _“About you_.” He’d just broken all of his morals as a budding police officer, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty about it.

Kokichi straightened up, alert and frowning.

“Really?”

“Yes.” he nodded. “Museum of Imperial History, this Friday night. We’re beefing up security, considering the last time we received a tipoff.” Shuichi had unwittingly told Kokichi about the previous one, having had no idea about his true identity. Kokichi had been able to take extra precautions and get away with the whole thing scot-free.

Kokichi cursed, looking up and out of the window. “Guess that’s called off.”

Now _that_ was music to Shuichi’s ears.

“It was completely anonymous?”

“Yep. Although if I keep alerting you of these, I dare say Boss will stop taking notice of them.”

Nodding, Kokichi leant back against the wall, biting at his thumbnail. “That’s not fun news. Thanks though,” he said, lowering his hand and smiling affectionately.

Just then two unexpected people approached them.

“Well, good evening Boss. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Kara! Louis! What a surprise!”

An unlikely couple stood in front of them, looking at Kokichi amicably.

The one that spoke was a woman Shuichi would have guessed was in her mid-forties. Her choppy dark hair was speckled grey and she was developing wrinkles around her eyes. But she was tall and muscular, a boisterous smile glowing on her face, her attitude that of a gung-ho seventeen-year-old boy. Shuichi had never seen her in his life.

Her companion on the other hand…

“Inspector?”

“Oh, Saihara-san.”

Stood next to her was Inspector Miyasashi Takeshi. Kaminara had loaned Shuichi over to a precinct the other side of town, and he’d been the Inspector’s charge during that time. That was when he solved the case that landed him in the papers a few months ago. He was a little taller than the woman, and his hairline was receding in a hurry. He came across as fatherly and mild-mannered but still respectable, the kind of person Shuichi saw as a perfect fit for a high ranked police officer. At least he had.

“Well lookie here!” the woman interjected, a cheeky grin splitting her face, alarmingly similar to the one he knew Kokichi to pull. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have said they were related. “Perchance is Boss out with his fabled lover?”

“Kara, stop it!” Kokichi exclaimed, batting his hand at her and giggling. “Where do you get these ideas from?”

Shuichi would have insisted he figure out why a member of the police force was with someone calling Kokichi boss (although he could guess why), but he’d been thrown for a loop by Kokichi’s response. In the little time they’d been together, Kokichi had never passed on a chance to brag about their relationship. So why was he acting coy now?

“Well _I_ heard from Coco that…”

“Coco’s full of shit.” Kokichi snorted and crossed his arms. “You should know that by now. Poor girl doesn’t know the difference between a lock pick and a hacksaw.” He shook his head. “We aren’t ‘lovers’ or however you would put it. If only though, amirite?”

Shuichi couldn’t find any words, grateful the attention was off of him right then. What on earth was going on?

“W-wait, Ko-” But before Shuichi could even finish saying his name, Kokichi had slapped his hand over Shuichi’s mouth. “Ow!” He scowled up at him. “What was that for!?” he asked, words muffled under the other’s hand.

“It’s just occurred to me that there is something I may have forgotten to explain to you, Saihara-chan.” _Saihara-chan?_ Kokichi had seemed to relish in using Shuichi’s first name as much as he did bragging about their relationship, so what was this about? “Within our little… club, the only person who’s supposed to know my name is Snake. Okay?”

“Yeah, but…” Shuichi still wanted to know why Kokichi was acting so strangely.

“I’ll explain anything else once we get to your place. _Okay?_ ”

Shuichi sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get anywhere. “Okay, whatever.”

“That’s my Saihara-chan!” Kokichi ruffled his hair, and Shuichi was almost disappointed when the hand dropped so quickly from his head. But Kokichi turned back to his ‘colleagues’, ignoring Shuichi altogether. “Completely off topic guys, but we’re gonna need another meeting. Stat. Tomorrow, preferably. Just the seven of us _._ ”

The two looked between each other, confused. “If you say so Boss,” the woman, Kara, said, going along with it. “Want us to gather the others?”

“No, no, I’ll do it. Well, unless you can get a hold of Alfie. He’s always difficult to reach.” Kokichi then looked up to the order board above the food counter. “Our food’s ready! C’mon then, Mr Bump!” He pulled Shuichi to his feet, helping him balance. “Welp, it was nice to see you guys. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow! It’ll have to be at five, I have a lecture at seven and can’t do before that. Anyway, see ya!” And without giving them time to respond, he began to push through the small crowd.

Shuichi followed him to pay for the food. “I thought we have dinner reservations at that time?” he asked, leaning down to whisper.

“We do!” Kokichi replied, scooping up the food as it was placed on the counter in front of them. “I just lied to them. They’re used to it. I mean, _you_ ’re used to it and you’ve only known me for a year. Kara’s known me since the womb! She says I get it from my mother.”

“Yeah but,” Shuichi protested, pushing the door open with his shoulder and holding it open for Kokichi. “Why was it even necessary?”

Kokichi shrugged. “Why do I ever lie? It’s fun.”

Shuichi shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.” His tone dipped into seriousness, prompting Kokichi to look up, concerned. “ _Saihara-chan?”_

Realisation dropped on Kokichi like an anvil, shame leaping to his face. “ _That._  Right. The thing with that is that… um…” He shook his head. “It’s not like… I’m not embarrassed of you or anything. Really, it’s nothing like that. It’s more that… all my friends are criminals. I don’t want them to know how close we are for the same reason they don’t know my legal name. I don’t think that any of them would but… I just really don’t want you getting hurt again. If anyone found out that we were _together_ , then you may be at risk.”

If anything could have assuaged Shuichi, it was that.

He stopped walking, bringing Kokichi to a standstill too. “I’m so glad I’m with you.”

Kokichi blushed and rolled his eyes. “I have no idea why.”

“While that is unbelievably sweet and romantic and all of that disgusting stuff though,” Shuichi continued, ignoring the response. “You still could have told me earlier.” He pulled Kokichi closer and planted a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m not angry, but it was upsetting.”

“Sorry,” Kokichi muttered. “But could we just go to your place? I feel like we’re in the way.”

Shuichi chuckled and nodded. “Come on.”


	4. Chapter 4

Shuichi hadn’t expected any visitors until late, so when someone knocked on his door at midday he was perplexed. He never received visitors straight from the door, usually from the buzzer. So he approached with caution.

Looking through the peep hole though, he saw two unexpected faces.

“Hello?” He opened the door to two young women. One was his neighbour, Nagamine Emiko, who he wouldn’t be all that surprised to see on a regular day. The other was someone he’d only met once and, when he had, it hadn’t been under the most pleasant of circumstances. He knew her only as Coco.

“Oh, Saihara-kun!” Coco exclaimed, voice unpleasantly shrill. She had a box in her hands, but she shoved it at Nagamine before pouncing at him. Her arms clamped around him with strength mightier than the average bear. He was lifted off of his feet and hung like a rag doll, unable to do much aside from struggle for breath.

Nagamine seemed unfazed, if anything she looked amused. But she laid a small hand on Coco’s shoulder. “I think you’re making it worse.”

Coco, scared as to what she meant by that, instantly dropped Shuichi. He only fell an inch or so, but he had difficulty regaining balance, his leg wincing and causing him to stagger back.

“Oh shit, I really did make it worse. Saihara-kun, I’m so sorry!” She rushed forward and took hold of his arm, gentle this time.

Leaning on her, he stumbled over to where his crutches had been kicked to the floor a few hours ago. “It’s err… it’s fine.” He wished he could sound more genuine, but he was too startled to offer his usual doormat-ish assurances. “Why are you here?” he asked, pushing himself up.

Coco’s face lit up. She turned to Nagamine and snatched the box out of her hands. “Here, I made this for you!”

Moving over to the kitchen counter a few paces behind the sofa, he accepted the box and opened it. Inside was a large cake. It was unevenly smothered in fluorescent pink buttercream with the words “I’m sorry I got your leg broken” scrawled across the top in black writing icing.

While it made Shuichi cringe at how much sugar must be in that thing, he was also touched.

“I thought it would only be right to deliver it in person,” Coco explained nobly. “Snake helped a little and, well… Do you like it?”

Shuichi turned to look up at her earnest face. “Of course.” He smiled. “Though I don’t blame you for this.” He would have shaken his left leg to emphasise his point, but he was sure that after landing on it, that wouldn’t have been the smartest idea. “Thank you, though.”

“It was my fault and you won’t change my mind on it! Anyway, I’m gonna raid your kitchen and get some of this baby sliced and served!”

While she was rifling through his drawers and cupboards, Nagamine sidled up next to him. “I tried to convince her to bake bread, but she wouldn’t have it,” she explained, quiet so Coco wouldn’t hear. Nagamine was all too aware of Shuichi’s tiny sweet tooth. He liked sugary things just not… _that_ sugary. “ _‘Apologies are done with cakes’_. Honestly.” She laughed in her little elegant titter and shook her head. “I had her make a chocolate cake though. You-know-who’s favourite. I thought that you’d appreciate the gesture, and he’d appreciate the food.”

“Thanks.” He looked back down at the cake. Kokichi’s favourite, apparently. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

A few minutes later Shuichi had the thinnest piece of cake he could get away with in front of him. It looked a lot better in pieces than as a pink blob. It tasted alright too. Then again, Shuichi would have expected nothing less from Nagamine.

“I met a two of your “friends” the other day,” he mentioned, playing with his food. “Kara and um… I think they called him Louis?”

“Making the rounds in Dice are we then?” Nagamine teased, leaning forward on her elbow. “I suppose you already knew Louis though.”

Shuichi nodded.

“Shocked?”

“Just a bit.”

“Why wud ‘e be shocked?” Coco asked around a mouthful of cake. “Izzit cuz he’s old?” She swallowed. “He may be a bit of a geezer but he’s good at what he does.”

Shuichi laughed awkwardly. “Am I even allowed to say?”

Nagamine raised her eyebrow. “Yeah, of course.”

“Well…” Shuichi frowned at his plate. “I just wasn’t expecting someone on the force to be a member.”

“Oooh. Right, he’s a cop. I forgot that you were too.” She giggled, high pitched and girlish though nowhere near as innocent sounding as Nagamine’s did.

“Why on earth wouldn’t you be allowed to say that?” Perplexed, Nagamine sat up, leaning back in the dining chair. “Everyone knows. He’s our biggest mole.”

“Hey!” Coco yelled defensively. “That’s _my_ title!”

“You’ve never infiltrated the police force.”

Shuichi shook his head. “Well you’re not supposed to know K… the... his… your boss’ name. I didn’t know what else you aren’t supposed to know.”

The girls understood. Coco shrugged. “Well, that’s Boss. _That’s_ different.”

“But how is that even possible?”

It had been bugging Shuichi all week. He couldn’t really see how Kokichi could possibly execute a rule like that. Someone was sure to overhear his legal name, or find some sort of document, or his school records. Especially the Inspector. He was a police officer with access to files of all the citizens residing in the city. Surely if he wanted to know it wouldn’t be that difficult to find out. The idea that he could get away with something like that without anyone but Nagamine knowing seemed ludicrous.

“Well, we aren’t _supposed_ to know each other’s names either,” Coco explained, smirking. “But that’s bullshit.”

“Not quite,” Nagamine amended. “Yes, most of us know each other’s names, but most of you don’t know Boss’ name. At least for definite.” She turned to Shuichi then. “You probably know this already, but Boss really knows what he’s doing here. When it comes to crime, for some reason he’s a natural born genius. That’s why he’s been using a million different aliases since… well since he was born.”

That surprised Shuichi. “I’ve never heard him called anything other than Boss and… y’know.”

“Well I daresay that was intentional. But actually, I probably don’t know.” She paused to pick up the tea Coco had prepared to go with her cake. “According to Boss, I’m the only one who knows the name on his birth certificate but… I’ve known him almost as long as Kara, and that’s saying something, but that doesn’t mean he’d really ever give out that information.”

Shuichi furrowed his brow. “I don’t think I follow?”

“Look, Boss is a liar and a criminal. However you may know him, that’s a fact that just can’t be escaped. He lies to everyone. To enemies, friends, even myself. I daresay there’s something you think you know about him that you’ll find out is a lie at some point.” She shrugged. “So really, I’ve always taken this so called “privilege” with a grain of salt. I can’t be sure that the name I know him by is his real one. What if someone tortured it out of me? What would he do then?”

Coco nodded. “I mean, even you’re a weak link. You told me his surname a couple weeks back, if that’s really it.”

That didn’t seem to settle well with Nagamine, but she brushed it off. “By this point, the select people that he really gave that name to will never be able to know for sure. The only one who could ever really know is Boss himself.”

Shuichi didn’t know what to make of all of this. It answered his question, but it raised more in its wake. Unsettling questions. Could that mean that…?

“O-out of curiosity,” he asked Nagamine, frustrated that his voice betrayed his worry. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me what you know him by?”

“It’s different to what you know.”

That took Shuichi by surprise. “H-how…?”

“You told me once what you know him by. I don’t know him by the same surname, anyway. The forename is a whole other matter. Although at this point it seems likely we’ve been given two different identities.” She sighed and shook her head, brushing a strand of her long hair behind her ear. “I can’t say it surprises me. Question is: which of us is wrong?” She laughed again, but this time it was mirthless. “Who knows, perhaps neither of us is right.”

Coco, through all of this, looked worried. The visit was supposed to pleasant, an opportunity for her to apologise and have a laugh with Shuichi. When had it taken such a dark turn? “How about we abruptly change the subject?” she suggested, ‘tact’ a word that had never been a part of her dictionary.

“Fair enough,” Nagamine agreed. “What about that weather, eh?”

The girls left a while later, the mood lighter than it had been before. But still, the issue wouldn’t leave Shuichi alone, buzzing around his consciousness like a relentless fly.

Did he really not know his own partner’s name? Did Kokichi, or whoever he really was, trust him _that_ little? So little that even after they entered such a relationship, that he wouldn’t alert him about something like this? He didn’t want to believe it, but Nagamine had been right. When it came to Kokichi, it was difficult to know what to believe.

Shuichi had to give up on getting any more work done that night, he was too distracted. Television couldn’t lull his mind into blankness either. He tried going to sleep but that was useless. He’d almost burnt his dinner for thinking about it. He just couldn’t get anything done in such a state. All he wanted to do at that point was confront Kokichi about the whole thing and put his mind at ease.

Luck struck when, after three hours of staring at the wall, trying to ignore the incessant doubts, he heard the window in his bedroom shift and the unmistakable sound of someone jumping through it.

Sure enough, seconds later, Kokichi waltzed into the living room.

“Evenin’,” he greeted, taking a beeline to the kitchen where the extra plate Shuichi had prepared for him sat. “God, how long ago did you make this?” Kokichi asked, sticking it in the microwave. “It’s stone cold.”

“Err… couple hours ago.”

Kokichi snorted. “Couldn’t wait I suppose.” He sat up on the counter and Shuichi could hear the soft thuds as his feet banged against the cupboard. “Hmm? What’s this…?”

“Cake.”

“I thought you didn’t like cake.”

“Coco made it for me.”

A second later he heard Kokichi’s raucous laughter at reading the message. “What a fuckin’ idiot. You don’t even like this shit.” He paused a second. “Is it chocolate?” His voice was a lot more hopeful this time.

Shuichi sunk further into the sofa, guilty for acting like everything was okay. “Yeah. Nagamine-san said it’s so you can eat it.”

“That girl is too good for me.” He chuckled just as the microwave bleeped. Soon enough, he’d collapsed next to Shuichi on the sofa and had a forkful of rice in his mouth. “You’re too good for me too. This shit is great.”

“I…” Shuichi couldn’t bring himself to look at Kokichi. “I’m glad you think so. I thought that it was… not good.”

“Don’t be silly.” Kokichi nudged him with his shoulder. “Your food’s always good.”

At that point though, an uncomfortable silence fell between them, the only sound being the clink of the fork against Kokichi’s bowl. He didn’t want this, but it just wouldn’t stop eating at him.

In Shuichi’s peripheral, he saw Kokichi place the bowl down on the coffee table, more than half full. That was odd, but he still didn’t risk looking over at him. Not until he’d gathered the courage to confront him about this.

But he wouldn’t get that chance, because Kokichi had a lot more courage than he did. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Shuichi could feel his gaze on the back of his head, which only made him feel worse. Why was he doing this? “Shuichi, really. You’re not going to get away with this one.”

Still though, Shuichi couldn’t find words. He just couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t see how it was possible. Kokichi loved him, didn’t he? Kokichi was honest with _him,_ right? But still what Nagamine had said was true He was still a liar, even if it wasn’t malicious. Even Kokichi admitted to that, he was prideful of that facet of himself, of how good at it he was. Shuichi could spot at least one every time they met. But how many didn’t he see?

“Sh-Shuichi?”

The frailty in Kokichi’s voice almost startled Shuichi into facing him.

“You’re starting to freak me out.”

His heart couldn’t bear the guilt much more after that, and he turned a fraction, so he could see Kokichi out of the corner of his eye.

He took a deep breath.

“You’d tell me if… if the name you gave me was wrong, right?”

“Yes! Of course I would!” Kokichi protested, almost too passionately for Shuichi’s liking. “Where would you ever get that idea?”

“Well you said that Nagamine is the only person in Dice who knows your real name but… she knows a different one. I just… Have I really been calling you by a name that isn’t yours?”

“Did Snake tell you that?”

Shuichi nodded.

Kokichi put his hands either side of Shuichi’s face and forced around him to look him in the eye. “Shuichi,” he said, staring at him with pained gravity. “Snake knows me as Kawaguchi Hitoshi because that’s the first alias I was ever given. That’s also the name my parents went by. And, as far as my Dice life goes, that’s my real name. Okay?”

Shuichi nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to.

“But the name you know is the one on my birth certificate. Do you understand?”

Again he nodded, feeling a little better. “So, your school…?”

Kokichi dropped his hands. “Yeah, that’s what the school knew me as. I figured someone had to know me as it. Besides, what name seems less likely than the one the most people are going to know?”

That made a lot of sense. But still.

“I still don’t…”

“I know, I know. Snake’s taken me through it all before. So many names no one can know which is real, yadda, yadda. But you’re really gonna have to trust me on this one.”

He looked so earnest that Shuichi couldn’t help but feel compelled to do so. This may have just been another one of his ploys, his tactics at getting away with lies. But seeing him, he didn’t really care. That was why Shuichi hadn’t wanted to look at him before, knowing that his resolve would break the second it did.

But who really gave a shit?

“I mean, I wouldn’t want… well y’know, I wouldn’t… Who’d want the person they loved calling them something fake?”

Unable to take much more of it, Shuichi threw his arms around Kokichi and buried his face into his hair. His elation only grew when he felt Kokichi’s arms wrap around his shoulders in turn.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’d have been the same.” He chuckled. “I’m kinda glad that’s all it was. I thought you were about to break up with me or something.”

“Idiot.” Pulling back, Shuichi lifted Kokichi’s chin with his finger. “I can’t see that ever happening. I think you’re stuck with me eternally.”

Kokichi’s smile was brilliant and bashful and made Shuichi’s heart melt into goop. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”


	5. Chapter 5

It hadn't taken Shuichi long to begin walking at the pace he had before becoming crutch bound. And as soon as he had, he'd resolved to walk everywhere.

It was at times like these that he cursed living in the middle of a bustling metropolis. He _could_ drive: his uncle had paid for him to have lessons and he’d obtained his license three years back. It had been more than useful when he lived in a smaller town. But now, living in Kenkita had scratched out the possibility of him owning a car.

Regardless, Shuichi was determined to get along as if his little handicap didn’t exist. Which was why, having learned nothing from the time he'd been held at gun-point, he was now down a dark alleyway. In his defence, it would have taken almost double the time for him to walk home from work on only well-lit roads.

Luckily though, Shuichi didn’t have any weapons pulled on him on this particular occasion. He did, however, run into someone he hadn’t expected to.

“Maki?”

She seemed more surprised than Shuichi was, although he couldn’t see much in the darkness. “Oh, Shuichi. Good evening… you’re out late,” she remarked.

He shrugged. “Work ends late.” Shuichi looked down to the rucksack in her arms, the one she usually carried her books in. “Were you studying or something?” he asked, a little puzzled as lectures didn’t start again for another two weeks.

“H-huh?” Maki clutched at the bag tighter, shoulders tensing at his remark. “Oh… yeah. Of course, um…” she muttered, slinging it over her shoulder. “I didn’t tell Kaito… he would have moaned. I mean, he was already asleep by the time I left so he should still be…” she trailed off, looking at her feet.

Shuichi couldn’t see her face, but he was almost certain that she was extremely uncomfortable. “Are you alright?” he asked, taking a step towards her.

She jumped away, eyes wide and watching Shuichi’s every move like a hawk. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She most definitely wasn’t ‘fine’, but Shuichi already knew he’d get nothing further out of her. Shuichi retreated, sure to keep his concern hidden, and waved his hand in the direction of the alley’s exit. “Would you like to walk with me?”

“Oh, sure. That would, err… that would be nice,” she agreed, shoulders dropping and a trace of a smile in her words. “Thank you.”

When they left the alley, Shuichi could see that Maki didn’t look all that great. Her gaze was steely, and her fingers held onto the handle of her bag so tight that her knuckles had gone white. Shuichi figured that if anyone was going to be able to console her though, it would be Kaito and not him. He could see himself getting absolutely nowhere with such an endeavour.

At least, he _hoped_ Kaito could. He and Maki had been having a few… issues. Nothing serious, thank the heavens, but issues nonetheless. It wasn’t nearly to the extent that Shuichi thought he’d have a better chance of talking to Maki than Kaito would, but he wasn’t confident Kaito would have her pouring her heart out to him either. There was a very low chance of that happening when their relationship wasn’t a bit rocky. He only hoped that they got over it quick, Shuichi hated to see either of them like they were.

Maki was trying to act normal at least. “Were you busy today?” she inquired.

Shuichi smiled and shook his head. “Not especially. Only paperwork. I haven’t had much to do recently.”

She nodded.

They fell silent a while, the faint sound of sirens blaring and the howl of a dog somewhere in the distance.

It wasn't long before Shuichi could see his apartment building. The lights glowing warm through the windows, making him realise just how tired he was. He found himself longing for his hard mattress and dirty bed sheets.

Neither of them said anything until they were at the doors to the tall building. Maki waited a moment as Shuichi clumsily pulled his keys out of his coat pocket before speaking up.

“Erm… Shuichi?” she said as he was pulling the door open.

Shuichi turned around and smiled. “Yeah?”

He found her frowning at the brickwork, her eyebrows knitted together. “I’m sorry if I seemed off. I’m fine, really.”

Even though he didn't believe her for a second, Shuichi nodded. “As long as you’re sure. Though, you should really tell Kaito if something’s up, he’s worried about you.”

Maki sighed, and her face relaxed into a gentle smile. “I know.” Her gaze flicked over to the side. “He’s a little whiney about it though.”

Shuichi laughed and nodded. “I can’t argue with that, but still.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” She finally looked up at Shuichi, and when she did, he felt a little better about the whole situation. She looked relaxed at the very least, smiling up at him tiredly, looking as desperate for a bed as he was. “I hope you sleep well. We should meet tomorrow for lunch or something.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, that’s a great idea!”

“Kaito will be happy,” she mused. “I’ll text you in the morning, then.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow.”

She returned the farewell before walking off down the street, leaving Shuichi to the trek up to his flat.


	6. Chapter 6

Shuichi had received the grumpy call from his uncle in the middle of the night. The man was complaining about betrayal and ‘trusting cavalier, ladder-climbing pigs over flesh and blood’ and Shuichi, tired and confused, had simply hung up and turned off his phone, resolving to call back when he was more alert and Isoshi wasn’t, as the clinking of glass and rabbling in the background of the call had suggested, in the middle of getting drunk with Kaminara.  

In the subsequent call Shuichi ended up apologising for telling his boss about his new relationship before telling Isoshi. By way of making amends, he agreed to bring Kokichi when he visited for his birthday.  

“Don’t touch his recliner, he gets so protective over it you’d think it was made of solid gold. But it’s old and uncomfortable so I don’t why you’d even want to sit in it anyway, so just _don’t_.” Shuichi rambled as he navigated the darkening streets of Yokohan to Isoshi’s apartment. “He has serious personal space issues too and he hates being touched. Oh, and I almost forgot…!”

“Shuichi,” Kokichi interrupted him. “If something goes wrong, it goes wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time one of your loved ones decided they didn't like me.”

 “There was nothing I could do about Kaito and Maki.” Shuichi shook his head and sighed. “This is _Isoshi_. I really want you to get along.”

“Guess I’m just gonna hafta try my hardest then, eh?”

Shuichi rolled his eyes but let himself break a grin.

They turned the next corner and Isoshi’s building came into view. Shuichi pointed at it with one of his crutches. “That’s it.”

Kokichi skipped ahead, both of their bags bouncing about his legs, until he’d climbed the stairs to stand at the entrance and turned around to start teasing Shuichi about being a slowpoke. Hauling himself up the stairs, Shuichi just laughed.

A minute later, they’d made their way up to Isoshi’s door on the fifth floor, and Shuichi knocked. He whipped back around to Kokichi at the last second. “Last thing. My uncle’s a _detective_. Don’t be suspicious.”

“For fuck’s sake, Shuichi. Just _relax_ already, it’ll be fine.”

Before he could say anything else, the door opened, revealing his uncle’s gruff face.

Shuichi turned around and blinked up at the man. “You got a haircut.”

“Yeah and what of it?” Isoshi grumbled, scratching at his stubble.

“But…” Shuichi continued to gawk at him. “But you haven’t had a haircut in three years.” His scraggly, often unwashed, hair that had hung around his shoulders was now short and choppy. Seeing his uncle look like anything other than a hobo was unsettling,

“Shut up and get in,” Isoshi shut him down and turned back into the flat wandering over to the kitchen, leaving the boys to enter at their own leisure. Kokichi took the initiative and pushed Shuichi through the door.

Isoshi’s apartment wasn’t exactly the height of luxury.

It was cramped and dark, with only one window and slightly too large, second-hand threadbare furniture taking up nearly all the floorspace. The whole room was almost covered in a layer of dust, like someone had picked up a duster but thought better of it halfway through. The place had a sense of being well-used, if not well-loved, and managed to feel cosy despite how otherwise uncomfortable everything appeared.

To Shuichi, the place was home.

“I didn’t believe it when Jun told me,” Isoshi called over from where he was tending the stove, pushing something around a sizzling pan. “But you actually broke your leg. I still don’t know how.”

“I don’t have to tell you everything.” The thought of Isoshi knowing about that story made Shuichi wince.  

Putting the spatula in his hand down, Isoshi turned to lean against the kitchen countertop. “Obviously not,” he said, looking pointedly at Kokichi.

Shuichi bowed his head, sheepish. “Right, of course. Um…”

But before he could introduce them, Kokichi had stepped forward to do so himself.

“My name is Ouma Kokichi,” he said, bowing in a show of respect Shuichi would have never had to the nerve to expect from him. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” When he straightened up, Kokichi had a charming smile adorning his face, and Shuichi couldn’t help but gawk.

Isoshi nodded and approached, hand outstretched. “Saihara Isoshi.” Kokichi accepted the hand and shook it firmly. Isoshi nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” The stove rattled and Isoshi rolled his eyes before turning back to it. “If you stick your luggage in your room dinner should be ready in ten.”

Doing as suggested, Shuichi showed Kokichi to his room where they dumped the bags before sitting to the table.

“Since when do you lay the table?” Shuichi asked, looking upon the pristine cutlery and crockery perfectly arranged on Isoshi’s tiny excuse for a dining table. Considering that Shuichi was used to a whatever-eating-utensil-was-cleanest stuck in a yellowed bowl of week-old rice, he wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or worried for his uncle’s health.

“Since now,” Isoshi shot back, moving the food to the table and digging around the fridge for a jug of water. “The food isn’t plastic,” he muttered, dropping into his squeaky chair with a grunt.

Promptly, Shuichi sat and began eating.

“So, Isoshi began, propping his elbow up on the table, never one for manners despite how fancily he’d done the table up. “How long has this secret been going.”

“It hasn’t been a ‘ _secret’_ , I just forgot to mention it.”

“When a witness omits the truth, I tend to call it a lie,” Isoshi pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Shuichi rolled his eyes, doing his best to hold back a smile. “You were away, and when you got back I just… forgot you didn’t know.”

“That so.” Isoshi stuffed rice in his mouth before continuing. “How long then?”

“Two months.”

He grunted again and quiet fell over them. Shuichi was worried they were falling into an awkward silence until he noticed that Isoshi was staring at Kokichi.

Shuichi knew he was just studying his face and was more than used to this sort of behaviour from his uncle. The detective part of Isoshi’s brain never fully switched off, something Shuichi had inherited as a Saihara, so he tended to overanalyse everyone he came across. The way he was staring at Kokichi right then was different though.

“This may sound odd, but I feel like I’ve met you before,” he announced, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh, you met at the graveyard back in February,” Shuichi supplied, the other men turning to look at him. “It was brief but you don’t tend to forget a face.”

Isoshi shook his head. “I don’t think so…” But then he shrugged as if to say, ‘I don’t really care anymore’. “If you two met out of town though, what were you doing here?”

Shuichi was certain that, while it hadn’t been great up to then, that this was tipping point from bad to worse. This was one secret Kokichi had been fiercely determined to keep, not that he knew why.

“I was born here. I was just visiting dead relatives. Bit of a coincidence that we were there on the same day.”

 If Shuichi had expected anything, it wasn’t the _truth_. He’d told Kokichi not to be suspicious, but he never thought he’d do anything like this.

“Actually,” Kokichi continued, addressing Shuichi. “If I hadn’t gone to live with my grandmother, we would have gone to the same school.”

“Really?”

He nodded, a chipper grin on his face. “I only live a few roads over from here.” At the doubtful look Shuichi shot him, Kokichi snorted. “Yes, _really_.”

If he couldn’t trust Kokichi occasionally, Shuichi figured he was being a pretty bad partner, so he nodded and smiled. “I guess your move was a shame in multiple ways then.”

“As if you’d have spoken to someone like him in school,” Isoshi retorted, proceeding to turn to Kokichi. “When you were kids, you wouldn’t have found a bigger wallflower anywhere. Rarely had his nose out of a book or a case file. Too much like me for his own good.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Shuichi protested. “I, unlike you, at least know how to smile and express emotion.”

Isoshi grunted in amusement, even though the corners of his mouth never so much as twitched upwards. It had taken half a childhood of living with the man to learn how to differentiate between his grunts. “You were still and introvert with two friends.”

“And?” Shuichi had to exert a lot of effort to restrain a pout and turned back to his food, angrily stuffing his face.

Conversation picked up amicably from there. Shuichi didn’t know what to make of the pleasant face Kokichi was putting on, but he was at least glad for the effort. Knowing Isoshi, he’d probably already sussed that Kokichi was putting on a face, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. In fact, he was trying to be personable.

On top of that, once they’d had their fill, Kokichi had risen to help clean up, something Shuichi had _never_ seen him do. Isoshi had batted him off at the sink though, refusing to ‘let a guest do the dishes’. Shuichi refrained from mentioning his forcing Kaito to help out whenever he decided to pay a visit.

It was as Kokichi had instead moved over to help Shuichi to his feet that they heard the explosive bang. They all jumped, Kokichi accidentally letting go of Shuichi’s hand, sending him thumping back into his chair.

“What on earth was that?” Isoshi was the first to voice the obvious question. Neither Kokichi and or Shuichi had an immediate answer, although they were all thinking the same thing.

“You don’t think it was…?” Shuichi asked, looking out of the window above the sink for any sign of a disturbance.

 “A bomb? Maybe.” Isoshi furrowed his brow and returned his attention to the sink.

Kokichi frowned as he held his hand back out to Shuichi. “It definitely sounded like one.”

To his dismay, Shuichi didn’t doubt that Kokichi probably knew what he was talking about. He allowed himself to be pulled out of the chair again, staying upright this time. “The detonation site must have been really close for it to have been that loud.”

“I say it’s none of our concern.” Isoshi picked a wash cloth up off of the counter with a grimace. “Why don’t you two sit down?” he suggested. “And…” But he was cut off by the growing sound of sirens. He leant over to get a better look out of the window before falling back onto his heels and sighing. “And pop the news on, if you would.”

Nodding, Shuichi hopped over to the sofa, ignoring the blaring noises from beyond the apartment’s walls.

“Wow!” Kokichi had inexplicably called out and started batting at Shuichi’s arm. “Is that what I think it is?”

Shuichi, still not over the explosion, blinked down at Kokichi who had an awed smile on his face. He was dreading knowing what this was about. “What?”

Kokichi pointed over Shuichi’s shoulder. Turning around, he saw Kokichi was pointing at his uncle’s stain-ridden, flea-bitten recliner.  “Spoken of only in the scrolls of old! The ancient and mystical ‘Recliner of Don’t Touch’!?”

It seemed that Kokichi had taken it upon himself to lighten the mood, letting his pleasant façade drop to make this embarrassing joke.

Shuichi was torn between choosing to laugh, plant his face in his hands or kick Kokichi. “I suppose it is my, err… my uncle’s recliner.” He nodded, not knowing what else to say.

A melodramatic gasp escaped Kokichi’s lips and he began to jump giddily. “If _that’s_ the case, I had better keep at least a two-meter distance at all times. Who knows what my uncultured hands could do to such a precious artefact?!” Without further ado, Kokichi proceeded to begin climbing over the back of the creaky couch, which didn’t sound very happy to have someone crawling over it.

“What are you doing?” Shuichi asked, moving forward to watch his five-foot-one boyfriend struggle over the back of the high-backed settee.

“You see, Shuichi,” he began explaining matter-of-factly. “If I chose to walk around this sofa to sit down, I’d get too close to the ‘Recliner of Don’t Touch’.” Shuichi confirmed that, yes, the recliner and the sofa were almost touching arm to arm where they were cramped into the corner of the room. “Therefore, this is the only option I am left with. Why your sofa is so unnecessarily tall is completely beyond me though, “he complained, grunting softly as he lifted his leg over the back of the seat.

As he found himself falling back into the sofa cushions, a cute look of triumph crossed his face, but it was replaced by panic when he didn’t stop there. Losing his balance, Kokichi went toppling further, crashing onto the floor with a loud thud that was sure to have to neighbours concerned.

“Ow,” Kokichi groaned rubbing the back of his head.

Shuichi would have rushed to make sure he was okay but was distracted by the alien sound coming from behind him. He whipped around to find his uncle with his hand pressed tight against his mouth, failing to stifle a snort of laughter.

Paralysed with shock, Shuichi could do little but stare as his uncle turned around with a smile on his face.

“I think I’m going to faint,” Shuichi said, clinging to the sofa for support, no regretting having discarded his crutches against the far wall. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d witnessed his uncle _laugh_.

Kokichi scrambled back up onto the sofa and knelt up, levelling his face with Shuichi’s. “Then I must be a miracle worker or something, huh?”

“Or something.”

“Oh, just sit down.” Isoshi waved his hand at his nephew dismissively. “I still want to know what that racket was all about.”

Shuichi pushed himself upright and did as told, snatching up the television remote from the coffee table before collapsing into the flat sofa cushions. He flicked the television on and to the local news, but it was currently rambling about some school fundraiser. They’d have to wait.

The sirens didn’t go away but their pleasant chatter was still easily heard over the noise. Isoshi didn’t take long to throw the tea towel he’d been using to dry onto the counter and join them, sitting back in when he was now also calling the ‘Recliner of Don’t Touch’. Eventually though, the news decided to address the explosion.

“This just in, the Viridian Keep Hotel was subject to a bomb attack just over half an hour ago. The culprits and their motives have yet to be determined but there have so far been fifteen confirmed casualties. The explosion is reported to have spawned from the building’s basement and the emergency services are currently working to evacuate all persons within the building for fear of severe foundational damage.”

“Jesus Christ,” Isoshi muttered. “That’s just around the corner.”

Shuichi looked over to Kokichi and frowned. “Are you okay?” he asked upon seeing the young man deep in worried thought.

“Huh?” Kokichi jerked up. “Oh, yeah, I’m good.” Shuichi guessed he was thinking up excuses, knowing that would never convince two detectives. “I just thought… someone I know works in a hotel in this city, I was trying to remember if it was that one.” He shook his head, an expression that was trying to look relaxed washing over his features. “I don’t think it was that one, but I’ll check in with them tomorrow.”

The way Kokichi turned back to the television too quickly had Shuichi doubting the validity of the explanation, but he figured that in front of his uncle was no place to grill Kokichi about anything, especially if it turned out to concern Dice.

Isoshi received a number of phone calls over the following hours, from colleagues and friends about the explosion as they were so close to it. Their own conversation steered away from the bomb quickly though, preferring to discuss less depressing topics.

After what Shuichi was ecstatic to call a successful evening, he found himself yawning incessantly, requiring a lot of effort to keep his eyes open. Kokichi forced him to retire for the night, eagerly falling off the back of the sofa again before dragging Shuichi off to the bedroom.

“Hey, kid, wait a sec,” Isoshi stopped him, getting up to feel around the top his bookcase for something. He pulled down a small, lumpy package. “Catch.” He threw it across the room and Shuichi was proud to say he didn’t let it go skidding across the floor. “Happy birthday.”

Shuichi’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. He’d forgotten it was his birthday. He looked down to the small present and carefully unwrapped it. Underneath the paper was an ancient looking leather watch.

“I used that to time my all my police exams. I don’t think it’ll be lucky or anything, but I’ll be a little happier if I know you’ve got that during yours.”

Shuichi smiled down at it, not quite knowing what to say. If he was receiving something like this from anyone else, he probably would have hugged them or something, but Isoshi despised that kind of thing. So instead, he looked up and nodded. Isoshi returned the gesture before slumping back into his chair. “Now go to sleep before you collapse.”

Obeying his uncle’s half-hearted order, he turned and followed Kokichi into his old room.

Once in bed, Shuichi felt cramped, the two of them squeezed into the old bed he’d outgrown by the time he was thirteen. Isoshi had never had enough space to store extra bedding. Kokichi was at least happy, face buried in Shuichi’s chest as he snuggled up as close as he possibly could.

“I told you it would be fine, didn’t I?” Kokichi said smugly, craning his neck up to meet Shuichi’s eyes. “You were being all paranoid for nothing.”

“I’m glad I was.” He sighed and fiddled with Kokichi’s hair. “I didn’t think he’d make such an effort… I don’t think he’s tried for anything in over a decade.”

Kokichi shrugged, yawning. “He cares about you.”

“I know.”

“Well,” Kokichi rushed to interject, “not as much as I do!”

Shuichi chuckled. “I’m sure.” He stared down at him for a moment, feeling almost as light as air. “Thanks for being, y’know, agreeable. I really appreciated it.” He chuckled. “Although I’m certain Isoshi knew you out of character for a good deal of the evening.”

“Anything for you. Especially on your big day.” Kokichi looked down again, resting his head against the pillow. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

And with that, Shuichi leant over to switch off the bedside lamp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note, I doubt anyone noticed, but I actually did end up ret-coning something. It was only Isoshi's age, to make other background stuff actually feasible, so now he's 36 when he used to be 32 (I think)


	7. Chapter 7

That morning hadn’t been all that great for Shuichi. Really, it had been rather shitty.

In light of his broken leg and inability to do much fieldwork for Kaminara, Shuichi had been taking on extra paperwork over the summer. With so much free time on his hands, the only problem he’d encountered was that Kokichi didn’t like having to compete with other criminals for Shuichi’s attention. But now that he’d just entered his final year of university, which brought with it a much larger workload, everything was piling up.

He’d been at the precinct since half six that morning, trying to finish as much paperwork as possible. He was tired, and the work had been taxing enough as it was, but an alarm on his phone had rung at about nine alerting him that he had a paper due by noon the next day. A paper he’d completely forgotten about.

In his panic, he’d managed to knock over and smash his twelfth cup of coffee, the hot liquid not only drenching his crutches, but also his right leg.

The worst part of it all though was that everyone else he knew was busy as well, even Kokichi, who had other plans. So, he wouldn’t be receiving any moral support for at least another twenty-four hours.

With all that in mind, Shuichi had figured that deserved _some kind_ of a pick-me-up. A treat, if you would. Which was how he found himself in front of what was undoubtedly the most expensive café in all of Kenkita. However, this café also sold the best coffee in all of Kenkita. He figured, at least for today, it was worth it.

He hobbled in and groaned at the size of the queue. He didn’t care though. He needed this coffee for the sake of his sanity, and a bit of standing around wasn’t about to deter him.

Leaning on his good leg, balancing against the crutch, he pulled his phone out and began to mindlessly peruse it. He was partway into a news story he was only half interested in when he was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He blinked and looked around.

“R-Rantarou?”

Behind him stood a tall, very good-looking young man. He had a dozen or so miscellaneous piercings and hair dyed an odd shade of green Shuichi would have recognised a mile off.

“Wow, Shuichi! It’s actually you!” Rantarou grinned broadly. “I thought you moved away?”

“I came back a couple of years ago. What about you? I thought you were being shipped off to Europe.”

“I pouted at Mother until she said I didn’t have to go,” he explained, laughing. “Plus the girls were begging Father to let me stay.”

Very little could have made Shuichi’s day better than running into Rantarou right then did. Suddenly, all worries about the rest of his afternoon were shoved to the back of his mind as the joy at seeing an old friend ballooned up, allowing space for little else. The line seemed whittle down in an instant with Rantarou to chat with, about his sisters, about Isoshi, about what they were doing with themselves. Really, he felt it went _too_ quickly.

Just after Rantarou had placed his own order, he turned to Shuichi with a grin. “If you aren’t busy you should come sit with us! We can catch up some more.”

Shuichi shook his head as he pushed his wallet back into his jacket pocket. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Nah, he wouldn’t care.”

By the time the Rantarou’s order was on a tray, he’d managed to convince Shuichi to sit with him, and was leading the way to his table. “Okay, dude, just a heads up.” Rantarou nudged Shuichi with his elbow. “Look my friend is cool but… well, he can be… Well, an arsehole. Just… just ignore pretty much everything he says and you’ll get along.”

Shuichi laughed. _If only he knew_. “Don’t worry, no one can be worse than my partner.”

“Partner?” Rantarou parroted, eyebrow raised. “Wow.”

“What?” Shuichi didn’t know what to make of the surprised look on Rantarou’s face.

“I don’t know, I just… I could never imagine you in a romantic relationship.”

Scoffing, Shuichi glanced indignantly up at his friend. “Are you saying I’m not desirable?”

“He’d better not be!”

Shuichi thought his heart was about to fly from his throat. He whipped around at the familiar voice, eyes wide.

Sat in one of the booths was Kokichi. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I told you last night!” Kokichi pouted, crossing his arms. “I’m hanging out with my friend. God, do you ignore _everything_ I say?”

“Wait,” Rantarou interrupted his build up to the waterworks, placing the tray on the table Kokichi was sat. “You know Shuichi?”

Shuichi looked from Kokichi to Rantarou, blinking owlishly. Then something clicked.

“Well _duh_.” Kokichi drawled, sitting back in his seat and linking his hands behind his head. “He’s my _boyfriend_.”

After a beat of silence, Rantarou burst into hysterical laughter. He was trying his best to be quiet, considering they were in public, but he was very nearly failing. He collapsed into the empty side of the booth and tried to calm down, clutching his at his chest. “Do you actually expect me to believe that?”

Shuichi couldn’t blame Rantarou for thinking that was a lie. If he’d been in Rantarou’s position, he probably would have thought the same. Still, he felt a little affronted as he sat down next to Kokichi. “Well it’s true.”

“You have to be kidding.” Rantarou had forced his voice steady, but his breathing was still heavy and wheezing.

“This is your fault,” he said, looking down at Kokichi. He just received a smug grin in return. “We really are dating.”

Kokichi nodded. “Three months!” He stuck three of his fingers in Rantarou’s face. “See? I was telling the truth! Maybe Kiibo will believe _you_.”

“I just…” Rantarou sat back in his seat, picking up his drink. “I don’t know…” He shrugged. “Congrats. As long as you’re happy.”

“ _Very_ happy, thank you very much!” Kokichi nodded.

Shuichi had thought his day couldn’t get much better but he’d apparently been wrong. Especially as Kokichi looped his arm around his own, pulling close and turning his nose up at Rantarou. He reached to run his free hand through Kokichi’s hair, relishing in the tranquillity of mind only Kokichi could inspire in him.

He was distracted by the quiet laughter from Rantarou though. “You really aren’t lying on that front.” He took another sip from his cup, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Kokichi just stuck his tongue out, reaching for his own drink, something undoubtedly too sweet for Shuichi to stomach. “Something I’d like to know though,” he said, leaning into Shuichi’s side resting his chin on his shoulder. “What business does someone as ugly as you have associating with my beloved Shuichi?”

Rantarou raised an unimpressed eyebrow but Shuichi was the one to answer, chuckling. “I’ve known Rantarou longer than I’ve known Kaito.”

“Wow that’s… a long time.” Kokichi looked up at him, almost impressed. “You must have been infants.”

“We were,” Rantarou confirmed. “We were in the crèche together. Our mothers were friends so whenever they met up, which was a lot, they just threw us in a room together.”

Kokichi nodded. “What’s the chances your mothers would be friends though,” he pointed out, laughing. “Especially considering where we are now.”

“Well, not really,” Shuichi said, tracing the rim of his coffee cup. “I mean, there are only so many millionaires in the country. Our fathers were friends before our mothers. The upper echelon has a very finite number of people within it. It’s really not all that surprising we’d be pushed together at every opportunity, considering that we’re the same age.”

“And our friendship would make it easier for our fathers to do business. Really, it’s all social politics. But we’re still friends. I mean, us rich kids have to stick together, y’know?”

“If only because everyone else laughs when we complain about it.”

Rantarou snorted at Shuichi’s pout, well aware of _just_ how much he complained; but Kokichi didn’t seem to like being out of whatever this ‘rich kid’ loop was.

“So guys did you, err… did you see the game last night? Boy, did that ball go!”

Stifling his own laughter, recognising what Kokichi was doing, Shuichi swiftly changed the topic of conversation.

The rest of lunch was blissfully peaceful for Shuichi. He was able to forget all about his looming work, but he couldn’t put it off forever. At some point he checked the time, realised he really couldn’t leave it much longer and, reluctantly, he excused himself.

“If you’re in town, we’ve gotta meet up again,” Rantarou insisted, pulling his phone out. “Gimme your number!”

“Stop hitting on _my_ boyfriend you slut,” Kokichi protested, kicking Rantarou under the table.

Shuichi accepted Rantarou’s phone and put his number in anyway. “Yeah, we should get lunch again some time. I’m sure Kaito will want to see you too.”

“Why are you always spending time with other men!” Kokichi whined, hanging off of Shuichi’s arm. “You’re supposed to love _me_.”

Rolling his eyes, Shuichi leant down and kissed the crown of Kokichi’s head. “I do love you. I did ask if you wanted to come over tonight, but you said no.”

“But… I _can’t_ tonight.”

“Well then.” Shuichi stepped back and balanced onto his crutches. “I guess we’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. I’m glad I got to see you anyway.” And he really meant it.

He said farewell and clunked out of the cafe with a light heart.

His afternoon wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be. Not after all that.


	8. Chapter 8

The biweekly movie nights that Kaito forced Shuichi to attend had started as a means to get Shuichi doing something when he had first moved back into Kenkita. Long had Shuichi moved past those worrying times, but it had become somewhat of a tradition since then. Shuichi had only ever failed to attend once in the three years since they started; and since that was when he got kidnapped, he hadn’t exactly been held to any kind of forfeit.

And so, as per usual, Saturday night rolled around and he was settled on Kaito’s sofa, ready to watch whatever had struck his friend’s fancy over the past fortnight. Maki was slumped on the other end of the sofa, having, like so many times before, been roped into joining them.

“Do you not think you made just a _little_ too much popcorn?” Maki asked as Kaito walked out of the kitchen with a veritable mountain of the stuff in his arms.

“Of course not, what are you talking about?” He gently set the bowl on the coffee table before collapsing in between Maki and Shuichi with a grunt. “You can _never_ have too much popcorn.” And, as if making his point, he stuffed a handful into his face.

Maki rolled her eyes and pulled her foot up onto the sofa. “It’s a wonder you’re not the fattest man alive.”

Kaito shrugged and nudged Shuichi. “Y’wan’sum bruh?”

“Later,” he replied, feeling like Kaito was easily eating enough for the both of them.

“Cool dude.”

Kaito snatched up the tv remote from where it had fallen onto the floor and asked Maki to hit the lights, commencing the night.

They weren’t half an hour into the first film though before they were interrupted by Maki’s phone buzzing.

She glanced at the caller ID and groaned before excusing herself to answer it. Five minutes later she was rushing out, pulling on a dark coat. “I have to go, it’s urgent.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Kaito turned around to look at her. “You said you’d make it this week!”

Maki shook her head, apologetic but immovable in her decision. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“Oh you _have_ to go,” Kaito scoffed. “Why is it that you always _have_ to be somewhere? Every single time we try to do something you just _have_ to be somewhere else!”

Maki rolled her eyes and began pulling on a pair of running shoes. “It’s not by design, it’s just…” She sighed. “You just wouldn’t understand.”

“Not _that_ again,” he spat. “I’m not a child, I can understand shit.”

“Then why don’t you grow up and act like it?”

Shuichi sunk as far as he could into the sofa, trying to become one with the cushions. This wasn’t a situation Shuichi often found himself in, his friends had the common sense to keep this kind of behaviour to a minimum with third parties present. But, without a doubt, Shuichi had witnessed this more than anyone else they knew.

 The argument lasted for a few minutes, ending when Maki made her exit, slamming the door behind her. Kaito, who had risen to his feet to confront her, now collapsed back onto the sofa.

He glanced over at Shuichi and grimaced. “S-sorry, man.” He gulped hard and Shuichi couldn’t help noticing the defeated air about his friend. “I shouldn’t expose you to that shit.”

Kaito picked up a piece of popcorn and rolled it between his finger and thumb, both of them ignoring the quiet voices still buzzing from the television.

“Am I…” Kaito began, quiet and more vulnerable than Shuichi had heard him a long, long time. “Do you think I’m being unreasonable?”

Shuichi didn’t answer immediately.

“Not really.”

Kaito smiled at him and flicked the popcorn across the room. “Thanks dude, but really.”

“Yeah, really,” Shuichi insisted. “I doubt even Maki thinks you are. She’s been acting suspicious for months now, and she’s never given you a very good excuse, and she knows it.” He shrugged. “But at the end of the day, that’s not what’s really important, is it?”

“Eh?” Kaito furrowed his brow.

“Y-y’know,” Shuichi gesticulated uselessly, unused to expressing these kinds of things so openly. The only times emotional heart-to-hearts managed to escape the bottle he trapped his feelings in was when it got too full to handle, so he wasn’t the most eloquent with this kind of chat. But he wasn’t about to let his friend flounder in his own bottle.

“Well, in the end, like… I mean… Surely the important thing is that you trust Maki, right?” He elaborated when Kaito’s face showed no sign of him understanding Shuichi’s point. “It’s like your stuff about believing in people. Yeah, she’s hiding something, but do you believe in her regardless?”

His friend’s face lit up, mouth hanging open in the sudden realisation. Then it snapped shut again and he closed his eyes in deep thought.

Shuichi was left to sit idly, waiting for Kaito to reboot hoping he hadn’t broken him by accident. The intense match of mental tennis came to an end when Kaito started nodding furiously.

“Yeah. Yeah! I trust Maki. I trust her completely!” he exclaimed, a broad smile rising to his face.

“You do?” Shuichi found himself mimicking Kaito’s grin.

“Yeah! I mean, we’ve been together for years at this point, and I think I know her well enough to be sure that she wouldn’t hide anything if she didn’t have to.” He nodded again. “Plus, if she didn’t want me to know something was up, she’d come up with better excuses.”

“Oh, definitely,” Shuichi agreed. Maki could run circles around Kaito when it came to manipulation.

Kaito readjusted himself on the sofa, kicking his legs up onto the coffee table next to the popcorn bowl. “I’ll have to apologise later. I don’t know why I just… I get so angry. The second she’s gone I realise I was being overemotional but… I don’t know. Is my self-esteem just _that_ low?”

Shuichi snorted. “I doubt it. My guess is you just don’t want to lose her.”

That struck a chord with Kaito. While he’d managed to calm down, now he was tense again, staring into his lap with a frown.

After a few moments of awkward silence fell over them, when Shuichi was about to ask him if he was alright, Kaito spoke up.

“Do you… You don’t…” His jaw set as he looked away, steeling himself. “You don’t think Maki will leave me if I go to space, do you?”

“What?!” Shuichi spluttered, sitting up. “Where did you get that idea from?”

Kaito sighed. “Well, I could be gone for months at a time, maybe even a year one day. That’s… that’s a long time to go without intimate company. What if she decides it’s not worth waiting for me to come back and then…” He gulped, refraining from saying it aloud as if doing so would make the idea more tangible.

Shuichi was at a complete loss for words.

The idea that Kaito thought about this a lot was worrying, although, sadly, not unfounded. Shuichi refused to believe that Maki would ever do something like that, he knew she would be the last person ever break under loneliness, but at the same time the idea managed to root itself in his head as a possibility, no matter how small.

“I don’t know what will happen, and I can’t tell you she won’t,” Shuichi said, shrugging. “I don’t think she would but… I guess you’ll just have to trust her on that too. I don’t think there’s any other option.”

Kaito’s frown dissolved back into a smile, and he nudged Shuichi with his shoulder. “I can always count on you to skip the bullshit.” He finally, truly relaxed, and stared up at the ceiling. “Thanks man.”

“Any time.” Resolving to take advantage of the lighter atmosphere, Shuichi reached over and grabbed the television remote to rewind through what they missed of the movie. “Now, I don’t know about you,” he said, deliberately changing the subject. “But I’m itching to see how this film ends.”

“Dude, we’ve both seen this.”

“Yeah, but I forgot how it ends.”

“Y’know, the bit on the plane with Billy-“

Shuichi slapped his hand over Kaito’s mouth. “No spoilers!”

Laughing, Kaito pushed Shuichi away. “Fine, fine. Go on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I introduce an previously unestablished regular meeting for the characters? Yes, I did. I needed a conceit, so I gave myself one. Bite me XD


	9. Chapter 9

Shuichi needed a break.

He’d been staring at his computer screen all day and was starting to feel stir crazy. It was miserable outside though, so going for a hobble was out of the question and his friends were busy until the evening.

He’d figured his best option was a nap.

Laying on his sofa, because he couldn’t be asked to hop all the way to the bedroom, Shuichi was enjoying the almost silence. The cars outside his window and the hum of his fridge were the only things that disturbed the air, and he blocked it out as white noise with ease.

Shuichi was almost unconscious when a loud bang jerked him out of his sleepy daze. He bolted upright and looked around for the source. It had sounded so close. He worried a lamp he used as a paperweight had fallen to the floor.

Nothing was different though.

He was just beginning to think he’d imagined it when he heard another bang. He looked up to the ceiling.

Was Nagamine okay?

When it happened a third time, he resolved to go check on her. He worked at a police station, what kind of an officer in training could he call himself if he didn’t do this much? That was ignoring his association with an infamous crime organisation; and leaking of sensitive information to said organisation; and then being in a romantic relationship with the leader of it too. But whatever.

He pulled himself out of his apartment and up the stairs, arriving in front of Nagamine’s door a lot slower than he’d hoped. Nonetheless, he rapped his knuckles against the door and waited for a response.

“Be careful with that! You’re going to dent the floor!” a voice yelled from inside the apartment and a moment later the door opened, Nagamine standing behind it. “Saihara-kun! What can I do for you?”

“I just… there was a lot of banging. I was wondering if you were okay.”

“I told you we’d disturb the neighbours!” she called over her shoulder again, sounding irritated but also smug. “Gosh, I’m so sorry about this, Saihara-kun, especially if we disturbed you.”

“I, err…” Somewhere between deciding he’d leave with a farewell or apologise for disturbing them in turn, he heard another bang and allowed curiosity to get the better of him. “What’s going on?”

Nagamine stood back to allow Shuichi a look into her small apartment. It was almost identical to his own, windows and doors in the same spots and the kitchen built in a perfect replica. However, as opposed to the metropolis of paper stacks that littered his living space at all times, the space beyond this door was quite sparse.

Canvas had been lain across the floor, cans of paint and large boxes sat in the centre of a ring of plastic covered furniture. In the midst of all of it was, much to Shuichi’s surprise, Kara, picking up a table leg she’d just dropped. “Kara’s helping me redecorate. I can’t do the walls until Ms. Oba gets back to me with her permission, so until then we’re just doing the furniture.”

Shuichi nodded. “It err, sounds like you’re having some difficulty.”

Nagamine laughed and nodded. “Kara’s the kind of person who insists she doesn’t need instructions.”

“I  _ don’t _ need instructions! When I moved into my first crappy apartment, we just stuck wood together until it looked vaguely like a stool and it worked fine for me!”

It didn’t appear to be working fine now.

“I’m sure we’ll get there in the end.” Nagamine smiled and shook her head.

“Would you like some help?”

The words had left Shuichi’s mouth before he’d really thought about it. It then occurred to him that he was probably not in the best state to be helping anyone with DIY, but it was still polite to ask.

Much to his astonishment though, Nagamine looked pensive, as if she were considering the offer. “Well… if you could get Kara to use the instructions that would be a miracle. Plus you could help with painting… if you’re up to it, of course.”

Shuichi nodded. This sounded like the exact kind of break he’d been looking for. “I’d love to.”

It turned out that Shuichi wasn’t as useless as he’d thought he would be. Getting Kara to follow the instructions had been a challenge but in all it was a fruitful endeavour. By the time the sun was setting, they’d built a new dining table, a few chairs and an entire armoire, which looked much better than the one Kaito had helped him build.

“I can’t believe you spend so much time with him though,” Kara said, sloppily painting the chair between her legs a pale blue. “I only have to see him a couple times every two weeks, you seem to spend every day with the brat.”

“Kara!” Nagamine shook her head. “You can’t talk about the Boss like that.”

Kara scoffed. “I’m practically his mother, I’ll talk about him however I damn well please. But Saihara-san, you  _ must _ get sick of him, right?”

“No.” Shuichi shook his head. “I mean, K… Err, you know, him. He can be irritating at times, but I’d never want to stop spending time with him. He’s important to me.”

“Still,” Kara said, gesticulating, drops of paint flying off of her brush. “He’s annoying and petty and… y’know, a nuisance.”

Nagamine rolled her eyes and shook her head, “You really shouldn’t say things like that.” But then she bit her lip and rolled the paintbrush she was holding between her fingers. “But I have to admit, Kara brings up a good point. I’m surprised you still have such a high opinion of him. Boss can be a very difficult person to deal with.”

Shuichi furrowed his brow. “Y’know, everyone has told me that, and I just don’t understand where it all comes from.”

Kaito and Maki had only had bad things to say about him from day one; Rantarou made jokes about it all the time; Kara had a lot of complaints, no matter how familial they were; and Coco had even been downright frightened of him at one point. It was a complete mystery to Shuichi just what Kokichi had ever done to garner such a reputation.

The two women stared open mouthed at him before sharing a look Shuichi didn’t know how to read.

“You don’t know?” Nagamine put the brush down and pushed the chair she’d been painting away. “You’ve known him for like… a year? And you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Well that explains that then!” Kara slapped her knee, boisterous laughter pouring from her lips. “You don’t know  _ Boss _ then. You know the pansy he’s become lately. Little bastard’s lost his touch.”

Nagamine frowned. “I, for one, don’t think that’s such a bad thing.”

It felt like the whole name business all over again.

Nothing seemed able to make Shuichi feel more uneasy than the idea that he didn’t know something big about Kokichi’s life. It was something he’d understood entering into the relationship, he was more than aware that there was a lot he didn’t know about the other, it had even driven them apart before. Still, he couldn’t help but feel affronted when people suggested that he didn’t know his own significant other.

He had to resist huffing before speaking again.

“I’m sorry, but what?”

The women looked at each other again. “Boss used to be, err… different.” Nagamine chuckled.

“Different?”

“That kid’s always changin’ tacts,” Kara waved her hand about. “Every couple o’ years we get a new model. He was a sweet kid actually, it’s only gone downhill from there though.”

Nagamine tapped her chin, eyes glassing over into memories of a past Shuichi knew nothing about. “He was the worst through high school, I’d say.”

“How so?”

“He was a vindictive piece of shit, that’s how.”

“Kara,” Nagamine admonished, shaking her head. “I don’t think we can really blame him for that. It was a hard time for everyone, and he took it the worst.”

The way the two of them kept talking about events he didn’t know was starting to irritate Shuichi. He felt responsible for not knowing this stuff. “What happened?”

“Well, it was just after his grandmother died.” Nagamine bowed her head. “All the adults at the top of Dice were now dead and no one but Boss had the authority to lead. At fifteen, that’s kind of a tall order, y’know?”

“Yeah, not to mention Dice had been kinda unstable before that too,” Kara added, her breezy air from before now cold and serious. “People doing shit they weren’t meant to, nicking stuff they had no business nicking. They were losing respect for the group.”

“It got worse though.” Voice softening, Nagamine pulled her knee up to her chin. “There were a lot of people who didn’t want Boss in charge because he was too young, so they started protesting. Everything that had been happening under the old Boss just got exacerbated. That was when… well…”

Kara finished for her, stone cold and impassive. “That was when people started getting violent.”

“I think we’ve said enough!” Nagamine burst out, her head snapping up so quickly her hair flew wildly around her shoulders. “This isn’t the sort of conversation Saihara-kun should be having without Boss around.”

Kara shrugged, expression relaxing and the corners of her mouth no longer pulling down. “Whatever you say.” She carefully picked up the now completely blue chair and set it aside to dry. “Pass us the last one, would ya?” she asked, grabbing at the air in the general direction of the next chair she wanted.

Shuichi’s eyes jumped between the two women, utterly confused.

He would have preferred to get back on topic, feeling that he’d received more questions than answers, but he knew that there was little he could do at this point without being rude. Besides, he knew Nagamine well enough to trust her judgement.

If he wanted answers, he’d have to ask Kokichi himself, and it would have to be at the right moment. He just hoped that moment would present itself soon.  

So, brushing it off for the time being, Shuichi forced a smile, cleaned his brush off and turned to Nagamine. “So, what colour do you want this table?”

 


	10. Chapter 10

Even though Shuichi wasn’t supposed to receive visitors straight to his door, he’d become rather used to doing so. Both Coco and Nagamine enjoyed dropping in on him from time to time and Maki, on the rare occasions that she chose to visit, would, unlike Kaito, knock before entering. So when a sharp rapping of knuckles came from his front door, Shuichi was expecting to find one of them behind it.

This was not the case.

“Shuichi!”

The woman behind it beamed, pulling her sunglasses from her face and throwing her arms around Shuichi’s shoulders. His face drained of colour as he stared at the walls of the hallway, the bland beige paint as vibrant as his thought-scape.

Once his mind finally returned to the situation, he sputtered out a return greeting. “Wha… M-mother!” It wasn’t an especially eloquent greeting.

She chuckled and stood back, patting his cheek with her free hand. “It’s been too long, darling!”

“Yeah,” Shuichi agreed, at a loss for any other kind of reply.

Without waiting for an invitation, his mother walked past him into the small apartment and looked around, placing the sunglasses into her handbag.

Ishikawa Machiko was a glamourous woman. Her sheet of glossy black hair and the hem of her dress swished around her like swirling fog, giving her a striking presence and an air of sophisticated mystery, which was only intensified by the sparkling jewellery decorating her neck and arms.

Needless to say, she looked out of place in an apartment like Shuichi’s. And, judging by the way she sneered at her surroundings, she knew it.

“I, err,” Shuichi began, closing the door behind her, “I would have cleaned up if I’d known you were coming.” He cringed as her gaze landed on the sink, which was full of unwashed kitchenware. “But I… didn’t.”

“I know,” she said, dismissing her surroundings and flashing a dazzling smile at her son. “But you haven’t been returning my calls and I just couldn’t go any longer without seeing my baby boy. I figured the only way I could see you would be to drop in unannounced!” She glanced around the apartment again, her smile faltering for a second, before moving to grasp Shuichi’s shoulders. “Did you not want to see your beloved mother?”

Not especially.

“Of course I wanted to, but I’ve just been so busy lately that I didn’t have the time.” His excuse was feeble but at least it was half true. He’d refrain from mentioning that he purposely ignored all of her calls and immediately deleted her voicemails without listening to them. “It’s… It’s wonderful to see you, mother.”

A satisfied smile split her bright red lips. “It’s wonderful to see you too, dear. Now, let’s take a look at you!”

She stepped back to examine him from head to foot and, as he’d suspected, she was rather distracted by the foot part.

“Your leg!?” she squeaked, a dainty hand raising to her mouth. “What on earth did you do to yourself!”

“I only broke it,” he mumbled. “Lots of people break bones, it’s nothing special.”

“How long?” she demanded coolly.

“Like, five months. The cast comes off on Wednesday.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us?” She placed her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at him. “Honestly, how does a grown man break his leg? I thought you were more careful than that.”

Shuichi grit his teeth and furrowed his brow. It took a lot of effort not to ball up his fists. “It’s not like I _wanted_ to get my leg broken.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the arm. “This never would have happened if you still lived at home. Give it another year and you’ll be on your deathbed.” She pulled him over to the sofa and sat him down. “And not even _telling us_ , I expected better of you,” she muttered and walked over to the kitchen.

“Mother, what are you-?”

“I’m making tea. You sit tight and when I’m done, I want you to explain yourself. And then you’re going to tell me everything _else_ you’ve decided to keep from me.”

True to her word she grilled Shuichi about as much as she could, constantly refilling his cup and shoving it back in his hands. She asked about school and his internship and about Kaito and was particularly interested when he mentioned getting back in touch with Rantarou.

It surprised, and even disturbed him, just how much she was interested in his life. Shuichi disliked admitting it, but at the core of all her actions appeared to be motive of care for her son and a desire to see him safe and secure.

That didn’t stop Shuichi looking for the opportunity to get rid of her though, and said opportunity was within his reach just over an hour later. He was running out of stuff he was willing to talk about and she seemed to be getting bored with the mundanities of his work life. But it was just as he’d gotten onto the topic of needing to get back to work that he registered the sound of his bedroom window shifting.

“Hey Shuichi! Have you seen that fancy-ass Mercedes parked outside? Is it your landlord’s or is one of your neighbours just a douchebag?” Kokichi called as he wandered in from Shuichi’s bedroom.

When he noticed who Shuichi was sat next to though, his demeanour took a dramatic turn.

“Oh my _god_.” His face lit up when he saw Machiko and he began to bounce on the balls of his feet. “You didn’t tell me your mother was visiting!” His voice had raised an octave with his excitement.

Machiko leant over to whisper in Shuichi’s ear, “Who is this?”

 “This is Ouma Kokichi. He’s-”

“I’m a huge fan!” Kokichi interrupted, standing forward and bowing low in greeting. “Plague Union is like, my favourite film of all time.” A film that Shuichi routinely refused to watch with him on the basis that his mother was in it.

“Oh, well… thank you?” She turned to Shuichi, still perplexed.

Shuichi sighed. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“ _Boyfriend_?” she repeated, looking back and forth between the two, allowing the news to set in. After the initial moment of surprise passed though, her eyes narrowed and she rose to her feet, circling Kokichi in an almost predatory manner. He didn’t look uncomfortable, Kokichi had never been one to let attention pass by unappreciated after all, but by the way he shuffled his feet Shuichi could see that he was at least nervous.

As a Saihara, Machiko was in the habit of analysing everyone she met and judging their character the best she could. As the wife of a businessman and politician, she did this anyway.

“He’s very cute, isn’t he?” she muttered, not to receive an answer but just as an open assessment. “The hair’s definitely wanting… I wonder what colour it is naturally… Though he is _very_ short...” She stopped her circling in front of him and scanned him once more, head to foot, for good measure. “Lovely bone structure though, and I’m sure he’d look dashing in a suit… Yes… yes, he’ll do nicely.” She turned back to Shuichi and flashed him a glittering smile. “Congratulations, darling.”

And for a moment, Shuichi let himself relax.

 _She approved_.

He hadn’t thought he even wanted her approval but, while he wouldn’t have done anything if she hadn’t given it, having it felt nice. Kokichi certainly seemed pleased with receiving it, shaking her now outstretched hand and formally introducing himself.

But of course, it couldn’t last.

When she stepped back and began to admire him again, Shuichi pretty much knew what was coming.

“It’ll be all anyone can talk about… Keisuke will be _very_ happy… I’ll need to hire the tailor for both of them but showing him off will be simply delightful.”

“Mother, I hope you’re not talking about what I think you are.”

Her head snapped to look at him. “Huh? Oh, yes, yes, I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?” She snatched her handbag up off of the sofa and pulled out an ornate envelope. “Here,” she said, holding it out to her son, “the reason I came. As you’re an adult now, I figured you deserved a formal invitation to the event this year.”

Shuichi took the letter from her and read over his name on the front.

“I know the party won’t be held until the twenty-fifth, but I expect you to come down at least two days earlier so I can make preparations around you, especially now that you have darling Ouma-kun. You’ll need to brush up on your manners beforehand, and his as well, and you said your cast comes off soon, so you _will_ be dancing, and you’ll need to remind yourself how to do that as well. You don’t need to bring any gifts; I doubt Keisuke will-”

“ _Mother.”_ Shuichi pushed himself up off of the couch to look her in the eye. “At what point did I agree to go?”

“You’re going, Shuichi. Keisuke was very disheartened that you weren’t there last year and-”

“I don’t care what Father thinks! You said yourself that I’m an adult now, you can’t tell me what to do anymore, so I’m not going to your stupid party.”

“Don’t be silly Shuichi, you’re going to spend the holiday with your family and you’re going to like it.”

Shuichi was about to explode when he felt a tug at his sleeve. He didn’t know whether to be thankful for Kokichi’s interruption, or frustrated that he’d dashed his train of thought. “Yeah?” he asked in a way that wasn’t as gentle as he’d hoped it would be, though not bitter by any definition.

“I’m very confused,” he stated, face assuming that impassive expression Shuichi was so used to. “What party?”

“A Christmas party, dear.” Machiko butted in before Shuichi could say a word. “My mother’s heritage was German, so when I was a child we’d celebrate the holiday as a family, in spite of my father being rather indifferent about it. Nowadays though, I’ve turned it into a more social thing for my husband’s friends and business associates.”

“And it’s the dullest, most embarrassing event I’ve ever attended,” Shuichi said.

“You used to enjoy yourself as a child.” Machiko crossed her arms delicately over her chest. “You and Rantarou, and you’d invite Kaito as well.”

Kokichi snorted. “ _Momota_ went to this thing?” The snort turned into a small, easily sustained bout of laughter, but the smile remaining on his face was broad. “Well, I _have_ to go this thing now.”

That was the last thing Shuichi had wanted to hear.

“There!” Machiko exclaimed, a gleefully smug gleam in her eyes. “You couldn’t deny Ouma-kun a chance like this? I mean, it’s not every day that you get to attend such an exclusive event, is it?”

Shuichi shook his head. “No, no Kokichi, it’s _so_ boring, you don’t understand what you’re getting us into.”

“It won’t be boring if I’m with you!” Kokichi’s smile faltered and Shuichi knew immediately that he wasn’t going to win this one. “A-and it should be cool if Rantarou’s gonna be there, right?”

Machiko nodded. “Yes, Kokone said they’re bringing all of their children along this year!” Shuichi already knew that Rantarou was going, he’d complained at length about how lucky Shuichi was for _not_ having to attend.

“I’ve never met his sisters, that would be cool!” The tone of his voice no longer matched Kokichi’s face though. His smile had almost completely dropped by now.

Kokichi _wanted_ to go and he hated to admit it, but his mother was right.

After a lot of squirming and jumping through mental hoops in an attempt to think of some kind of excuse, Shuichi let his shoulders drop and sighed. “Ok, fine, I’ll go.”

And then he was struck by inspiration.

“ _But,_ I’ll go only if Isoshi does.”

His mother blanched.

“You want me to convince my _brother_ to come.” She blinked at him. “You do know your Father will be present too?”

Shuichi smirked. “It’s not Father that Isoshi bickers with.”

He’d thought he had her, when, suddenly, she straightened up and beamed. “Consider it done. I’ll have him tell you himself.” Then she strode over and engulfed him in another hug he was too surprised by to return. “I can just tell this will be the best Christmas yet.”

Shuichi couldn’t help but disagree.


End file.
